If you call yourself an auto enthusiast, you’ve got to have some love for Mazda. I don’t care if you take factory delivery of a new M3 every four years or have a Mustang logo tattooed on your bicep — when it comes to championing technology that nobody else will, the fifth-largest Japanese automaker can’t be beat.

While the MX-5, RX-7 and first-generation Cosmo earned the company some street (and track) cred, there’s a definite freak flag flying over Mazda headquarters. For almost 50 years, it churned out lightweight, fuel-thirsty Wankel engines until stopping development in 2011. The rear-wheel-drive 929 sedan had a solar-powered sunroof vent before the Prius was a twinkle of code on a screen. And the posh Millenia S featured the world’s first production Miller cycle engine. Even the reskinned Ford Probe that was the MX-6 got four-wheel steering. Focus groups in Mazda’s hometown of Hiroshima must consist of highly imaginative contrarians, the sort of people who drink French beer and Canadian wine.

Returning to the States after a mysterious one-year absence, the redesigned Mazda5 is no exception to the corporate-sponsored quirkiness. It’s a six-passenger van, but it’s built on the same C1 platform used by compact cars like the Mazda3, Ford Focus and Volvo C30. At 180.5 inches long, it’s nearly two feet shorter than a Dodge Caravan or Honda Odyssey, but it’s got ample room for four adults and two kids. Mazda’s optimistic euphemism for the 5 is “the space van,” though those sliding rear doors might as well wear a “Student of the Month” bumper sticker.

In Europe, compact MPVs (multi-purpose vehicles) like these are huge sellers and almost every automaker offers one. Those cars almost never make it across the Atlantic, which is why the Mazda5 is the only car in its class in the U.S. until the arrival of the Ford C-Max next year. Yes, you can even order the 5 with a stick shift, though only in bare-bones “Sport” guise.

Though I try really hard to remain unbiased — I’ve never worked for an automaker, I don’t take advantage of press junkets, and I even buy my own gas for the cars I’m reviewing — I have to admit I fell pretty hard for the Mazda5. I’ve also got a fridge full of Kronenbourg and VQA Vidal, so take my praise with a grain of salt.

That there are thousands of automotive deviants like me is a fact not lost on company brass. At the vehicle’s launch — coincidentally, an event I watched on YouTube while sitting on my couch, not live at the Loews Coronado Bay Resort where it was held — it was clear brand manager Tetsu Nakazawa takes pride in the 5’s niche status. “I really like to think of this as our hidden gem in our lineup,” he said. “This vehicle does not fit into any traditional segmentation.” You can say that again. Championing lost causes and automotive orphans must be part of some unannounced business plan. Heck, if Mazda had rescued them, Saab would have resumed production of shoe-shaped two-stroke coupes.

The 5 is also unique in that it’s the only car to feature Mazda’s “Nagare” design language. The quickly discarded style was intended to depict motion, apparently through three creased lines that flow along the side of the vehicle. They look better in person than in photographs, but at the very least they’ll hide parking lot dings. From a distance, the van’s low ground clearance and wide rear end give it the look of a macrocephalic Mazda3 hatch.

Inside, there’s even more trippiness. The tester I drove, a Grand Touring with all the options (MSRP $24,025), featured beige leather with red piping that apparently signified its promotion to Cardinal, and the Gothic-revival dashboard had an honest-to-goodness Flamboyant Arch crowning the gauge cluster. The driver’s seat is perched up high, so you may feel the urge to wear a coin changer and announce upcoming stops.

Both front seats have armrests, and the chairs that follow decrease in scale as one moves toward the rear of the van. Second-row seats are adjustable for when someone’s sitting in them and fold flat when someone isn’t, and their cushions swing out of the way to reveal hidden storage compartments and a nifty center console complete with a receptacle I used as a trash bag. And though they’re obviously intended for kids, the little jumpseats in the back are big enough to hold a fully grown adult for a short ride across town.

Commanding such an agile vehicle from a captain’s chair sure is disconcerting. It’s like driving a conversion van in a world where the First Law of Motion doesn’t apply.

Low to the ground, the six-passenger 5 certainly doesn’t handle like a minivan. Despite its third row, the car feels well-balanced and light, and when pressed it doesn’t require the forethought that a bigger van would. Commanding such an agile vehicle from a captain’s chair sure is disconcerting. It’s like driving a conversion van in a world where the First Law of Motion doesn’t apply. The short wheelbase and massive greenhouse also make parking a breeze. I slipped into street parking in Harvard Square with ease, and was surprised to see how many other 5’s lined the roads of Boston’s more congested suburbs.

Could the Mazda5 be perfect? Hardly. First off, the fuel economy. Try as I might, I couldn’t break 23 mpg in a mix of city and highway driving. That’s not bad, but it’s also possible to squeeze that kind of mileage from a larger, more powerful Honda Odyssey. Second, though the rear hatch and sliding doors are lighter than those on a bigger minivan, they’re harder to close since they don’t offer a powered assist. Purists may scoff at such a First World problem, but it’s a glaring omission when parents are your target buyers.

Another option it’s sorely lacking is a navigation system. That’s a real shame, since the optional voice recognition system did a great job dialing phone numbers, and a larger screen would help free up some space on the impossibly crammed infotainment display. To compete, Mazda has to up the options quotient (Grander Touring?) and offer creature comforts for those who are willing to pay.

Without a map or turn-by-turn directions, I foolishly relied on a friend in the passenger seat to shout out directions to the restaurant we were headed to for dinner one night. That led to a last-minute merge onto Storrow Drive, a curving parkway notorious for short onramps and unheeded speed limits. I floored the throttle, but the 5’s five-speed automatic panicked and went radio silent, letting the 153-hp four-cylinder engine rev unchecked as the car slowly eased into traffic. Even at 5,500 rpm, there simply wasn’t any more power on tap.

Those flaws are all the more maddening because Mazda has already solved them in the rest of its lineup. Throw the Skyactiv powertrain that’s already in the Mazda3 into its bigger brother, and the mini-minivan would have gas mileage and acceleration befitting its footprint.

If a company is willing to take a risk and sell a car like the 5 in the U.S., it should do it right. Upgrade the engine, give us a stick shift across the whole model lineup, and let us double our monthly car payments with bloated bundles of options. If that ever happens, I’ll toast Mazda’s engineers and marketers with a glass of sparkling wine — from British Columbia, of course.